


The Secret of No Spoon O'Clock

by roguefaerie (samidha)



Series: Finding Home Away From Home (GQ/NB Dean Winchester with Shadow Moon Fics) [18]
Category: American Gods (TV), Supernatural
Genre: And there were no fucks to be had that day, Dean is Loved, Domestic Fluff, Episode: s01e02 The Secret of Spoons, Established Relationship, Established Shadow Moon/Dean Winchester, Except AU and just references, Grief/Mourning, I Will Go Down With This Ship, My Show has a goddamn spoon song, Other, Queerplatonic Relationships, Rest for the Weary, Resting, Sam Winchester is Dead, Spoon Theory, Spoonless, Spoons, They Like to Make Sure They're Both Taken Care Of Dammit, Tired Dean Winchester, Two People with Raging PTSD, for once, more show than book
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-10-14
Packaged: 2019-01-17 10:55:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12364185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samidha/pseuds/roguefaerie
Summary: A moment of recovery when there are no spoons to be had.





	The Secret of No Spoon O'Clock

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sirensnares](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sirensnares/gifts).



> If you ever asked me if I would write curtainfic in my life, I would have laughed in your face. I swear this 'verse has plot. See Tinker Bell for the beginning. I blame Neil--Lakeside _is_ asking to become curtainfic okay?!
> 
> American Gods. Murder. Mayhem. Zombie wives. Leprechauns. And curtainfic. What the hell is this book, anyway, Neil? ;) (God, I love it.)

Sunday night, too late in the afternoon to start a project, too early most of the time to go to bed. Winchester is laid out on the couch. Tired. Spent. Worn down. It’s been happening early in the day lately, comparatively, and Shadow thinks of Sam, and the toll his death is still taking.

Shadow is tired too, and fending off the bad floaty feeling. He doesn’t tell Winchester though.

A song comes unbidden to his mind, one he’s sure he’s heard before but he doesn’t know where. The melody first. And then the words.

“My love made the sweetest coffee, with no sugar at all,” Shadow half-sings, half-hums. “So grim. I don’t know why, but it’s been in my head for weeks.

Winchester sighs. “Not the spoon song.”

“You know it?”

“Sort of. Like, it’s familiar. Do you think I learned it at the House on the Rock?”

“No idea.”

“It goes one way, but…” Winchester laughs, tired and bitter, “Truth is there’s not even a spoon to put in the song." 

Shadow chuckles reflexively--it's catching. “There is no spoon.”

“There is no spoon! No fucking spoon!” Winchester crows, almost in triumph. “At least now we have to rest.”

“I think we’ll live,” Shadow says.

“To fight another day.”

“Fuck yeah.”


End file.
